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Updated: August 5, 2024
At first O'Rook confined his visits to pure sympathy; then, when he had allowed a "raisonable" time to elapse, he made somewhat warmer approaches, and finally laid siege to the widow's heart. But the widow was obdurate. "Why won't ye have me, now?" asked the poor man one evening, with a perplexed look; "sure it's not bad-lookin' I am, though I've no occasion to boast of gud looks neither."
You're not a bad-lookin' woman yourself if you wasn't so white." "Do let us understand each other," I said. "I told your son from the first that I did not care for him. My grandmother was old and dying. We had no relations to depend upon.
Give him a forenoon off and he'd spend it down at the Clearing House watchin' 'em strike the daily balance. Uh-huh. The only way he can write U. S. is in a monogram like this $$ Not such a bad-lookin' chap though; tall, slim and dark, with a long straight nose and a well-developed chin. Course he's got kind of a bilious indoor complexion, and them thick glasses don't add to his beauty.
"I mind once we had an Irish gal as a dairy help; well, we had a wicked devil of a cow, and she kicked over the milk pail, and in ran Dora, and swore the Bogle did it. Jist so poor Rigby, he wouldn't allow it was nateral causes, but laid it all to politics. Talkin' of Dora, puts me in mind of the gals, for she warn't a bad-lookin' heifer that.
"For King James, I should say, and a bellyful of fighting," said Dundee carelessly. "Maybe ye're richt, and if so, there's no mischief done; and maybe ye're wrang, and if so, there will be black trouble. At ony rate, I didna like the story, and I wasna taken wi' the men. No that they're bad-lookin', but they're after some ploy.
"You didn't give it to him, I hope." "No, indeedy, but he come so close to me dat I was askeered he might take it from me, so I kept hold ob a club. He suah was a bad-lookin' tramp, an' he kept laffin' all de while, like he was happy." "What's that?" cried Tom, struck by the words of the colored man. "Did he have a thick, brown beard?"
George," said the negro in a grieved tone, "ef you could see me good you wouldn't set dar en say I'm a bad-lookin' nigger." "Are you really Blue Dave?" the young man asked, dropping his bantering tone and speaking seriously. "Yasser, Mars. George; I'm dat ve'y nigger." "What do you want with me?" "I des wanter tell you, Mars.
I wa'n't such a bad-lookin' gal, afteh all. That taught me a lesson. I've always be'n real savin' sinct then, an' I ain't be'n ketched sinct with the choice to make of a 'vorce er a weddin' dress. No, indeed, not me!" Parson Rasba looked at her, and Nelia, her eyes twinkling, looked at the Parson. Nelia could understand the feelings in all their minds.
I wonder what on airth Pugwash was a-thinkin' on, when he signed articles of partnership with that 'ere woman; she's not a bad-lookin' piece of furniture neither, and it's a proper pity sich a clever woman should carry such a stiff upper lip she reminds me of our old minister Joshua Hopewell's apple trees.
Not just office hours. I'll bet he's one even in his sleep. He looks the part, dresses the part, thinks the part. He don't work at it, he lives it. Talk about this four dimension stuff. Ernie gets along with two up the column from the bottom, and both ways from the decimal point. Not such a bad-lookin' chap, Ernie, only a bit stiff from the waist up. You know, like he had his spine in a cast.
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